


Completely, Selfishly

by Novapple



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Near Death Experiences, gavin is pining even in death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 05:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novapple/pseuds/Novapple
Summary: The way he sees it, there are two options:1. Do nothing. Gunshot wounds are less fatal to androids. Only a headshot will kill instantly. A blast through the thirium pump or regulator would do the trick. Like humans, anywhere in the chest or stomach would be Not Good, but not certain death either. But the suspect is a former Cyberlife employee. He knows android anatomy.2. Shove Connor the fuck out of the way.It’s such an easy choice to make.





	Completely, Selfishly

Connor is better than him in every sense of the word. Loathe as he is to admit it, he’s a better cop. That’s what he was _made_ for, after all.

Connor is even better than him at being a human being. Hell, he’s a better person than most humans. Gavin probably doesn’t even qualify as decent.

He is faster, stronger, smarter, and better. Gavin might not be as good as an android cop, but he’s still damn fine at his job.

It happens in slow motion. Of course it does.

Hank and a couple officers are in the kitchen with the body. He’d followed Connor to the living room where he could “analyze” (fucking drink) the blood on the floor. Connor is crouched with two fingers in his mouth (Gavin is staring, entranced,) when he hears the unmistakable click of a safety. By the time his neck snaps to the sound from the now open closet, it’s too late. The handgun is trained on Connor and Gavin knows, he _knows_ the fucker is a millisecond from squeezing the trigger.

He needs to think like an android. The way he sees it, there are two options:

  1. Do nothing. Gunshot wounds are less fatal to androids. Only a headshot will kill instantly. A blast through the thirium pump or regulator would do the trick. Like humans, anywhere in the chest or stomach would be Not Good, but not certain death either. But the suspect is a former Cyberlife employee. He knows android anatomy. 
  2. Shove Connor the fuck out of the way.



He imagines this is what it’s like when Connor has to make high risk decisions.

So, Gavin might not be as good as an android cop, but he’s still damn fine at his job. Fine enough to know when to give it up.

It’s such an easy choice to make.

Fucking Connor has to live because he can save more lives, help more people. The rate of solved cases has increased _twenty_ _percent_ since the guy was officially sworn in. They can’t afford to lose him, especially with how much crime has increased since the Revolution. Detroit can’t lose him.

This is how he makes the most important decision of his life.

There just isn’t enough time to build the momentum needed to push Connor out of the way. He’s standing. Connor is sitting. And a gun is about to fire.

He drops to his knees, arms out, blocking Connor the best he can. As it is, he’s effectively shielding him from one, two, _three_ bullets.

This is why he’s choosing to take three bullets for an android.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he is completely, selfishly in love with Connor. And losing him would probably be the final nail in the coffin of devastation that is his life. Either way this could’ve played out— it would’ve ended badly for himself no matter what. He might as well save Connor’s life in the process.

Actually.

It has everything to do with the fact that he is completely, selfishly in love with Connor.

There are more gunshots. Two, he thinks, but maybe just one. Yelling. People are yelling. Somehow he’s ended up on his back. Connor. Connor’s eased him on to the floor and Connor’s hands press against his chest and _Connor’s_ face is all that’s in focus. Like a movie.

He looks like he’s in pain. His brows are drawn together and he’s biting his lip. Gavin can’t see his LED from this angle, but he’s almost positive it’s red. His heart clenches. He must be hurt. Gavin failed. It was all for nothing because Connor’s hurt. And here he is fussing over _him_.

Gavin tries to push his hands away to no avail. Connor presses down harder and it _burns_. His vision goes blurry for a couple seconds and he’s pretty sure he’s drooling.

“Stop.”

Connor’s voice is hard, but… broken. Once his eyes clear, he can see Connor’s bottom lip trembling. He’s trying not to cry.

Oh. Connor’s not hurt. He’s worried.

“You’re so stupid. So stupid, Gavin.”

“I know,” he rasps. It burns. Everything is on fire. Despite Connor’s palms pressing him into the floor, he still manages to writhe around in agony.

“Stop moving. You’ll make it worse, just—“ Connor cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. Gavin hates seeing him like this. All distraught and shit. He doesn’t want Connor panicking to be the last thing he ever sees.

“Why did you do that?”

He wishes Connor would look at him.

“‘Just ‘cause.”

People move in the background. Connor’s head snaps up and he yells at someone.

Gavin’s getting cloudy. Fuzzy and tingly. He’s going to die. It’s certain. It burns. He thinks maybe a lung is punctured— maybe that’s why it’s so hard to breathe.

This is what he wanted, though, right? His life in place of Connor’s. The greater good.

It’s just that now that it’s actually happening, he wants more time.

He didn’t even think about his cat before deciding to jump in front of a bullet. How could he do this to her? Ten years of taking care of her and she’s going to think he just randomly abandoned her. The thought causes a groan to be ripped from his throat.

And what about Tina?

He doesn’t want to die.

Which is funny because he’s spent most of his life just waiting to die.

Connor looks him in the eye now. He has such beautiful eyes. The prettiest he’s ever seen. He wants to be able to look into them for longer. Years, maybe. He wants Connor for years.

“Stay with me.”

He can’t. He can’t breathe.

Connor looks up and yells something again and the next thing he knows, someone else, maybe Hank, is taking Connor’s place. But he doesn’t go far. He’s just getting someone else to stop the blood flow so he can hold Gavin’s face. He’s so close. Gavin was right about the LED. It’s flickering red faster than he thought was possible.

If he had the energy, he’d lift his head and close the tiny distance between their lips.

“Help is almost here. Just hold on.”

“I can’t,” he gasps. Connor presses their foreheads together.

“You can.”

“Fuckin’ can’t.”

Connor kisses him. Quick and hard. Gavin could cry.

“Connor. I’m glad—“

“Shut up. Don’t do that.”

“I’m glad—“

“ _Gavin_ , _shut_ _up_ ,” Connor hisses. The hands on his cheeks tighten.

Connor’s really pissing him off. He’s dying and he doesn’t even get last words?

“I-“

“Gavin Reed, if you say you’re glad you’re dying, you—“

“I’m glad you’re here.”

It takes everything that’s left of him to force the words out. He’s exhausted. His eyelids are so heavy, he can’t help closing them. Connor’s saying his name. Repeating it over and over, each time more frantic than the last. He’s sorry. He can’t open his eyes or move or speak. He’s sorry.

He didn’t get to tell him he loves him.

***

Confusion muddles his brain when he comes to. He’s alive— he knows that much. He feels high, probably from being pumped full of painkillers, but simultaneously feels like he’s been hit by a bus. He’s alive. He’s alive and in the hospital and he’s _alive_.

How the fuck?

He blinks open his eyes, which is pretty damn hard considering they’re crusted together like they’ve been closed for a week. Nasty. Maybe they have been.

There’s only a small light illuminating the entry to the room. A glance at the glowing clock on the wall tells him that it’s almost four in the morning, which would explain Tina asleep on the little couch by the window. She’s going to yell at him when she wakes up.

Connor sits, straight and stiff as a board, in a chair pulled up beside the bed. His eyes are closed. He’s in stasis. His fingers are wrapped around Gavin’s wrist in a tight, almost painful, grip. He stares, entranced, because Connor’s human skin that always covers his hand is _gone_. Instead, white plastic goes all the way up to his elbow. There’s a soft blue glow peaking out from between his fingers and reflecting against Gavin’s wrist.

It’s freaky. Just his brand of freaky.

He tears his eyes away from Connor to check over himself.

His chest is covered in gauze. A thick tube comes out his rib cage, traveling down toward the floor. Ah. Probably a collapsed lung. He remembers how hard it had been to breathe, how Connor’s eyes had shone with unshed tears just centimeters from his own. He remembers Connor kissing him. At least he thinks that’s a real memory— maybe it was some kind of fever dream. A near death fantasy his brain made up.

He doesn’t remember much of anything else. Was there anything else? He got shot. For Connor. He thought he was going to die. He didn’t.

That’s probably something Connor’s going to want to address as soon as possible, if the death grip on him is anything to go by.

He exhales.

He’ll tell Connor the truth if he wants to know. He’ll tell him it was better him than Connor. Connor will probably call him a few variations of ‘dumbass.’

He tries to twist his wrist out of Connor’s fingers without waking him, because _ow_. He doesn’t succeed. Connor’s eyes snap open and his grip instantly tightens. Fuck, he’s going to have bruises. He reflexively jerks his arm back right as Connor seems to realize he’s hurting him and releases. His eyes go wide and he looks so fucking guilty and Gavin just can’t have that.

He rests his arm back down, turning his palm upward. He doesn’t like how vulnerable it makes him feel. But he’s trying.

“Hey,” his voice is so dry and unused, it comes out a croak.

Connor looks unsure of himself for only a second before he’s threading their fingers together.

“Fucking _imbecile_ ,” Connor whispers as his human skin melts away again.

Maybe he’ll even tell him about being completely, selfishly in love with him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts since like November(?) and was actually the first convin thing I ever started writing! Gavin was originally supposed to die, but I decided to finish it last night and couldn’t bring my myself to do it :O


End file.
